


Hard Times

by stereotypicalspaceguardian



Series: Behind the Scenes [3]
Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Crying, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Drugs, Feels, Heroin, M/M, Sad, Salarry, Songfic, We Don't Have to Dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 01:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17498837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stereotypicalspaceguardian/pseuds/stereotypicalspaceguardian
Summary: Larry does heroinThis is a continuation of Ironiclittlebaby's fic We Don't Have to Dance chapter 9Song: Hard Times by Paramore





	Hard Times

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ironiclittlebaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironiclittlebaby/gifts).



Larry sniffed as he shoved his cold hands deeper into his pockets. A soft breeze swept small pieces his long brown hair that poked out from his hood. He was anxious and fidgety, tapping the toe of his boot on the ground. He watched a white van pull slowly into the ally, coming to a halt so the side door was in line with Larry’s muscular frame. The door slid open with a loud clunk, a hand shooting out of the dark, palm up. 

Larry rolled his eyes and shoved a wad of money into the hand, which retreaded back into the van. After a few seconds, the hand shot out again with a small bag with white powder inside. He snatched it quickly, giving it a quick once over and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. He nodded and began to walk away, but a voice from inside the van stopped him dead in his tracks. 

“Hey aren’t you that Larry Johnson guy? The one from Sanity Fall’s?” The voice paused and gave a dark chuckle, “I wonder how much U.S.A Today would pay to know Larry Johnson does smack.” 

Larry snapped. 

He whipped around and thrust a hand into the van, pulling out a small tan, terrified looking man by his collar. He slammed him into a brick wall, not even flinching as he heard the crack of the other man's bones. 

“You tell anyone about this and you’re dead,” Larry’s eyes were ablaze with rage as he stared the other man down, “don’t fuck with me dude.” 

Larry threw the man to the floor and walked away, ignoring the his screams of protest and anger. 

___

The hotel room was dark, cold, and smelled like piss. A perfect place for Larry Johnson to wallow, feel like a piece of shit, and shoot up some heroin. 

He pressed his back to the head board of the old creaky bed as he used his teeth to pull a tourniquet tight around his right arm, the rubber burning his skin. He sniffed as he snatched a lighter from the bedside table and held it under a metal spoon, melting the heroin into a dark shade of amber. 

He ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him to stop, telling him that he could hurt himself and possibly die. It sounded a lot like Sal’s voice. 

He set the lighter down and picked up the syringe, ripping the protector off with his teeth and spitting it across the room. He managed to use one hand to suck up the golden brown liquid into the needle. He set the spoon down carefully and tapped the side of the syringe, small bubbles floating to the top and disappearing. 

‘Don’t do it Larry,’ Sal’s voice echoed in the back of his head. It made Larry want to cry. 

He took a deep breath and plunged the needle into his arm, ignoring the sting it created. As he injected the substance into his system, he felt himself slipping into the numbing high the drug provided. He flopped back on the shitty mattress, the strange slipping out of his hand and landing softly on the cheap carpet floor.

He hummed as he let the rush wash over him, his skin flushing red. He felt good, he felt nice, he wanted to stay like this forever. Because here he didn’t have to think about anything. About Sal, about the band, about Red Eyes, he could be at peace. 

He opened his eyes and Sal was standing over him, giving him a warm smile. Sal bent down and gave Larry a kiss on his sweaty forehead. He reached up, wanting to run his hand through those beautiful soft locks of hair. But Sal slipped through his fingers, vanishing into dust. 

He sobbed hysterically for the rest of the night in between throwing up and passing out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you sm for reading!  
> Sorry if this isn't accurate to how heroin works, I don't do heroin so I just researched it online  
> I DO NOT CONDONE HEROIN USE, OBVIOUSLY  
> If you have a substance abuse issue please talk to your friends or a loved one and seek professional help 
> 
> my tumblr: stereotypicalspaceguardian


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